


When fidelity isn't the point

by thingsiwontadmittohavewritten



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU - historical/aristocrats (Freeform), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Consensual Infidelity, Cunnilingus, F/M, First Time Blow Jobs, M/M, Married Castiel/OFC, Older Castiel, Older Man/Younger Man, Older Woman/Younger Man, Oral Sex, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-29 12:10:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5127092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thingsiwontadmittohavewritten/pseuds/thingsiwontadmittohavewritten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He doesn't mind his wife using their bed, but he <em>does</em> mind the noise. After all, he was having a nice, quiet evening</p>
            </blockquote>





	When fidelity isn't the point

**Author's Note:**

> This is... weird. I blame it on the fact that I have ever read Barbara Cartland. If you have too, then that's the historical setting I kinda place this in - if you haven't, for the love of god don't start now.
> 
> If this makes no sense to you ask and I will answer. The same goes if you have comments/critisim or suggestion. Leave kudos if you felt somewhat entertained
> 
> Btw, consent is never stated, but it is there - nothing (sexual) happens that those involved are against

He appreciate that his wife was discrete when she picked up her lovers, and it’s not that he really minded that she took them to their bed (though he hasn’t slept in it for the past two years), but it annoys him to no end that she has to be so loud, when she very well knows he likes to read quietly with a glass of whiskey and just relax after a long week at work. He knows (because she tells him at least once a day) that he’s a terrible husband, not even capable of getting it up long enough to give his family the heir they wanted. She took care of that of course, just like she takes care of everything else, and that is why he lets her stay, lets her desecrate their marriage bed without ever voicing any kind of protest, but that _noise_ is driving him insane, so he places his book and glass on the table, stands and walks up the stairs, where he opens the door to the master bedroom, and then he just stares.  
His wife is spread out on the bed, her dress bunched at her waist, stockings and garter belt still in place, but between her legs is the most beautiful man he has ever seen. He is young, probably early twenties, his hair is dirty blond and soft to look at. The man has his fingers and face buried in his wife’s cunt but it is as if he heard the door open and he raises his head, and he is met with clear, green eyes and the plumpest lips he has ever seen. They’re shining with saliva and his wife’s juices and all he can think about is what those lips would look like wrapped around his cock. Though the green eyed man has removed his face from the woman on the bed, his fingers keep pumping in and out of her while his thumb strokes something he has no idea what is. He thinks his wife might be moaning (he sees her arching almost off the bed on the green eyed man’s clever fingers), and he feels himself harden - a peculiar response considering he has never before had that happen when faced with his wife’s nakedness - and the green eyed man smirks at him, before he once again bends his head to the wet fold of his wife. He doesn’t move, not even when she screams and convulses around the green eyed man, not even when he sees her eyes are open, the look she sends him is calculating, before she looks back to her lover whose gaze is equally fixed at her husband and then she bats the green eyed man’s hands away, pulls her body away from him, stands and leaves the room never saying a word. They simply stare at each other, the blue eyed man with dark hair that has gone almost grey with age who’s dressed for bed, and the young man who is still fully dressed, and he can hear his wife in the dressing room, knows - after all they’ve been married for more than twenty years - that she is dressing to go out again, and then he hears doors closing and he knows the two of them are alone now, but still he cannot move.  
At last the young man rises from the bed and starts removing his clothes. The skin he reveals is tan and smooth, here and there adorned by a few freckles, his stomach covered in a light dusting of fair hair leading down to his trouser, that are suddenly pooling around the young man’s leg, and he can finally take in the sight of the young man’s magnificent cock, already hard and weeping as it raises upwards and out, and then the green eyed man is on his knees in front of the blue eyed, hands gripping the standing man’s hips and drawing in before he places his mouth over the older’s crotch. He grips the kneeling man’s hair and pulls him away while forcing his head back so he looks up at the dark haired man.  
“Name,” he rasps while fighting himself not to come at the sight of those green eyes looking up at him through unbelievably long lashes.  
“Dean,” he breathes before he slowly, deliberately licks his lips, and when the blue eyed man yanks at his hair, Dean sends him a cocky smile. “And you?” he asks, before he dives back to mouth at the erection in front of him, and it takes every ounce of strength he has ever had to answer: “Castiel”.  
Dean hums probably in understanding but his hands are trying to divest Castiel of his clothes, and that is really all he can be bothered to think about. His sleep pants are pushed to his thigh, and once more Dean licks his lips before he swallows Castiel to the root, while placing his hands on Castiel’s cheeks, making him fuck in and out of the younger man’s mouth. After an eternity he stills Castiel’s movements and pulls back far enough that only the head of his cock rests in the wet cavern of Dean’s mouth. The green eyed man suckles on the head while one hand kneads Castiel’s ass and the other his balls and is hit, without warning, by the most powerful orgasm he’s had in years. When he comes down from his high he is lying back down on the bed, pillow under his hips, and Dean is cleaning his cock with small, careful licks, while his fingers are playing with Castiel’s balls, stroking down and backwards, ghosting over his entrance. At this Castiel’s entire body stiffens, and the green eyed man gives him a surprised look. They keep eye contact for a long time, the younger searching for something Castiel doesn’t know what is, before the blond nods to himself and leans to the nightstand, where he retrieves a bottle Castiel didn’t know was there. Dean opens the bottle, and a strong scent of lavender surrounds them and then he pours the content over one of his fingers. Curious Castiel tracks his movements but it still surprises him when Dean’s hand disappears behind him and Castiel doesn’t feel a touch, it takes a few minutes before he realizes that Dean’s finger has most likely disappeared into Dean’s body, and Castiel is overtaken with the need to see, so he struggles to get up from under Dean - made easier when Dean retracts his hand to apply more of the lavender scented liquid - and the he motions for the younger man to move higher up the bed so that he can kneel behind and watch as Dean puts his fingers inside him. Castiel marvels at the sight (there are now two fingers breeching the man) and he is amazed by the slide in and out while Dean scissors the fingers too. When he removes his fingers to apply more liquid (by now, Castiel realizes it must be oil) Castiel can’t help but feel drawn to the way Dean’s hole seem to clench around nothing, and he is overcome with the need to touch. Tentatively he reaches forward, placing a hand on the pale left cheek while the middle finger of his right hand is dragged down the cleft. The wetness surprises him and almost without wanting to his finger slips inside. Dean is wet, warm and welcoming and just this has Castiel panting as if he’d been running for hours. He pulls his finger out before thrusting it back in as he saw Dean do before, and is startled by the moan that comes from the younger man, though it gives him the courage to add a second finger while upping the pace. Suddenly Dean reaches behind him, moaning “more” in a broken voice, and instead of removing his fingers from Dean’s body Castiel simply pours the oil right where they’re connected and adds a third finger, making sure to stretch his lover while keeping up the thrusting movements of his hand. Dean is clinging to the bedposts while wantonly thrusting backwards impaling himself on Castiel’s fingers, small moans and whine tearing from his throat interspersed with breathy ‘more’s, ‘want’s and ‘need’s. The sight and sound has Castiel growing hard again, something he hasn’t experienced for years and soon he removes his hands from Dean’s body to slick up his cock, the displeased whine coming from the younger man making him chuckle.  
“You’re such a good boy,” he praises, and leans forward to place a gentle kiss on the other’s cheeks. “Just begging for it, and good boys always get rewarded in the end,” he says as he lines himself up at the younger man’s entrance, and then he pushes in, first the head and the slowly, so slowly while listening for any signs of discomfort from the man in front of him, who is by now clinging to the bed so hard his knuckles are white, his back a rigid line and his legs trembling with the strain put on them so far, and yet Dean’s body is pliant and offers no resistance as he pushes inside, instead it seems to draw him in, gripping him and urging him forward until he is fully sheathed, and it’s so tight and warm and _right_ and he has to move, so he pulls back and then slams right back in, robbing Dean’s lungs of air and then he hits something inside his lover, and is met with an endless string of profanities and what he thinks is a shortened version of his name, before he screams and convulses around Castiel’s cock while painting the headboard white, after that it doesn’t take long before Castiel is painting the younger man’s insides in white, and the he gives a few more thrusts while Dean clenches around him, milking him for all he has. Eventually his cock falls from Dean’s warmth and he moves to get off the bed, though the other simply stays where he is, giving Castiel a perfect view of his reddened hole and the way his seed slowly dribbles from it down the pale skin of his inner thighs, and in that moment the only thing Castiel regrets is not doing this before.


End file.
